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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381250">flattery will absolutely get you everywhere with steven meeks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowbeesknees/pseuds/yellowbeesknees'>yellowbeesknees</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dead Poets Society (1989)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, charlie has confident chaotic bi energy, flattery gets charlie somewhere in life, omg meeks is a simp, set before the shit kicks the fan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:42:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,334</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381250</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowbeesknees/pseuds/yellowbeesknees</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie has perfected the art form of flattery with Meeks, it's the number one way to ensure Meeks's help with anything he desires (well, he could probably say the order and get a 'yessir' in response, but where's the fun in that?). He compliments everything intellectual from his answers in class, to inventions with Pitts, to Meeks's intelligent conversation and sarcastic comments. Charlie has a whole arsenal of compliments attributing to Meeks's mental capacity. It's boring to keep to the same old rota of flattery though, and Charlie thinks it's time to tell him how handsome he thinks Meeks really is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlie Dalton/Steven Meeks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>flattery will absolutely get you everywhere with steven meeks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>fun game: take a shot every time it's noticeable i'm not from america</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie had quickly learnt that flattering Meeks could never go far enough. Whatever it was he needed help on, the compliments just had to keep flowing, dripping from his mouth like sweetest nectar as Meeks buzzed around him, flustered, but lapping it all up in exchange for help on Latin, Trig, English, whatever he desired. Even to the point where Meeks was blushing so hard from embarrassment or pride that he bashfully asked Charlie to ‘shut up and find another hobby’, Charlie knew he just had to continue on until Meeks was practically begging him to stop. Then he would only drop one occasionally as Meeks said something that was probably thought provoking or helpful if Charlie had had the intellectual incline to care, or thank Meeks with gratitude that was perhaps not quite as deserved as he lavished on in thick spreads. The elaborate art had been so refined that he could get Meeks ready to help him in under a minute. He was also under the impression that such ploys were not required, as he could ask Meeks to do anything and he would simply reply ‘yessir’, but that was decidedly less fun. The compliments ranged through all scopes of Meeks’s intelligence, from asking him about the project he was working on with Pitts to commenting on something he remembered and admired him for saying in a lesson earlier in the day.</p>
<p>Today was one such day where Charlie required some specific help on his Trig. He was probably perfectly capable if he stuck his mind to it, but Meeks was right there and ready to explain, perhaps even looking like he might want to. </p>
<p>They were in their dorm, which Charlie had been ecstatic about sharing with Meeks (he assured himself) plainly for good friendship and convenience. He was sprawled on his bed, beret on his head in what he hoped would be described as ‘jaunty’ (but possibly looked rather odd combined with the tartan pyjamas), sunglasses ready by his hand for the moments notice of a requirement of placing them grandly on his face, and body twisted on one side confidently or could perhaps be perceived as seductive. “Meeks, you astounded me today with your quick answers to Hager, your intelligence positively shone, bloomed even.”</p>
<p>“Did it now?” Meeks was sat at one of the desk chairs, already pressing his forehead against the mountain of textbooks piled on his desk regretfully. His hair was still damp from the showers but no-one had ever had much regard for the hardback Latin textbooks. “Pray tell me more,” he muttered to the books.</p>
<p>“You’re such a better teacher than Hager, when you say it I understand instantly.” He tried the wide eyes but it didn’t really work when Meeks wasn’t looking at him. “Meeks, look at me.”</p>
<p>“Yessir,” he sighed, twisting in his chair to look with amusement at Charlie’s pleading eyes, “why the look Char, just ask me to do it and you know I will.”</p>
<p>He scowled slightly. “That’s nowhere near as fun.”</p>
<p>“It’s a lot less time consuming.”</p>
<p>“You love to consume time with me.”</p>
<p>Meeks rolled his eyes but squeezed his legs out from under the desk so he could face Charlie properly, obviously resigning himself to the agonizing few moments of compliments about his intelligence and general mental abilities. “I can’t believe you’ve still got things to say.”</p>
<p>“I have a thousand words for you Meeks.”</p>
<p>He blushed, and swatted in Charlie’s general direction across the room. “Shut up Char.”</p>
<p>“I bet you know over a thousand words Meeks, you’re just that intelligent.” Charlie grinned at him as Meeks hid his face in his hands. </p>
<p>“Are you sure we have to do this? I can help you with Trig if you want, I don’t mind.”</p>
<p>“Look at me Meeks,” he commanded and Meeks lowered his fingers slightly, glasses steamed up a little. There was something daring about that look, Charlie didn’t understand it, it seemed to say ‘come on Charlie, you’ve said all this before’. He swung his legs off the bed and Meeks watched him with confused apprehension as Charlie approached. The dorm was mellow with golden light, the corridor long since quietened. The moon hung tantalisingly outside their window among a scattering of stars above the forest, which reached up with dark fingers towards the even darker sky. “You’re handsome Meeks.”</p>
<p>He paused, the flush rising slowly up his cheeks, unlike the quick rush that Charlie was accustomed to seeing on Meeks. His eyes flickered up to meet Charlie’s, nervous and confused. “Charlie, what are you doing?”</p>
<p>“Flattering you so you’ll help me with Trig.”</p>
<p>Meeks shook his head faintly and Charlie saw his breath hitch as he stopped, standing right over him, Meeks’s face craning back to look up at him. “Char, Char please, think about what you’re doing for a moment.”</p>
<p>“What the hell are you on about? I am thinking about what I’m doing.”</p>
<p>He let out a soft huff of air which Charlie felt flutter on his wrist. “Look at me Char.” He gazed up, deep brown eyes and soft freckles behind large glasses, curly ginger hair still a damp uncombed mess.</p>
<p>“I’m looking,” he murmured appreciatively, appraising eyes gliding across Meeks’s face, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be seeing.”</p>
<p>“Your boring room mate who occasionally helps you with Trig and Latin?” He let out a small groan of frustration, pressing his head into Charlie’s stomach. “Char – ”</p>
<p>“You think you’re boring,” Charlie mumbled, lifting a tentative hand to run it through the cold curls, “I don’t think you’re boring, a few nights you came down to a cave with me and rapped poetry, what about that’s boring?”</p>
<p>Soft hands screwed in the fabric at Charlie’s back and he couldn’t help but let his breath hitch. “I have a boring personality even if I occasionally partake in an adventurous activity.”</p>
<p>“Have you taken on none of my flattery?” He pried Meeks off him with a reluctant sigh. “Just forget it Meeks, I’m going to bed.”</p>
<p>“Char?”</p>
<p>“Goodnight.”</p>
<p>“No,” said Meeks forcefully, jumping to his feet and grabbing Charlie by the sleeve, “Char, please talk to me, I don’t understand what you want, you’ve still got Trig to do.”</p>
<p>“Fuck the Trig Meeks! I want you! I would’ve thought that blindingly obvious by my advances just now.” Charlie dared to let his eyes meet Meeks’s and was surprised to find them filled with amused curiosity.</p>
<p>“Advances?”</p>
<p>Bed forgotten again (or, at least, not in a sleep filled idea), Charlie stepped forwards boldly so they were centimetres apart. “Like this one.”</p>
<p>“Ah, yes, well, I think that would qualify as an advance.”</p>
<p>Charlie snorted and lifted his hand to Meeks’s cheek, letting his thumb brush those freckled lips. “That one qualify?”</p>
<p>He made an amusing little sound that sighed out almost involuntarily. “Char...”</p>
<p>“Don’t say something about not being worthy of the great Charlie Dalton, I’ll hear no more of it,” he said, smirking.</p>
<p>Meeks simply smirked back. “I played you,” he mumbled, hovering a little closer, “gave you something to compliment, something to flatter.” It was an obvious lie, but he played along with it simply to see Meeks's look of enjoyment.</p>
<p>He let out a delighted little laugh. “Are you going to play me a little more or am I getting a kiss Meeks?” This elicited no response but another gradual movement closer from Meeks, he took that as an invitation and pressed a light kiss to those parted, freckled lips. Meeks stayed stock still. He kissed him again, slightly harder. Meeks didn’t move again, just stayed standing as Charlie backed away a little, lips still slightly open, eyes closed his wonderment. “Are you alright Meeks?”</p>
<p>Cracking open one eye, Meeks smirked again. “Come back here Char, unfinished business to attend to.”</p>
<p>A slow smile spread across his cheeks as Charlie moved back in to kiss him again. Finally, Meeks knocked off his beret and wound his fingers in his hair.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tysm for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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